Never Forget
by LadyHorror92
Summary: For some it was riding a bike, for others it was a meaningful poem, or being able to play that one song perfectly for the first time. Everyone had moments they never forgot, and Charles never forgot the day Ivy had his back, and he had hers.


**A/N: **_**This is just a one-shot, but I'm thinking about writing other one-shots or even an actual story, I'm not sure yet. Let me know what you think, and I'm willing to take requests for one-shots.  
**_

_**I'm not really sure about the ages of the characters in the movie, but in the play Ivy is supposed to be in her forties and Charles is thirty-seven. For the sake of making things clear, I'm going to assume that Ivy is thirty-nine.**_

**K+**_** was going to be the original rating, but since there is some swearing here and there I've made it **_**T**_** just to be safe.**_

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own **_**"August: Osage County"**_**.**_

* * *

When it was announced that his family would be hosting a little family reunion, fourteen-year-old Charles had hurried off to his room, the notion of his rather odd relatives coming to his house nearly driving him into a panic attack.

It wasn't that he didn't love his family, because he did, he just chose to love them at a distance. More often than not he found some excuse to avoid them all, such as suddenly falling ill. His mother Mattie Fae was more than happy to keep him out of sight, believing him to be odd, even slow and downright stupid. Of course his father Charlie thought differently, treating him like he was just another average kid, and he'd called out Mattie Fae more than once for being so mean to their son but she never listened.

Sitting in his room on his bed, idly swinging his legs over the edge, Charles wondered what he'd done to make Mattie Fae hate him so much. He hadn't done anything wrong. At least… he didn't think he had. Sure, he could be a bit forgetful sometimes, his head in the clouds or watching too much TV, but that was what most kids did, wasn't it?

Gravel crunched outside, and when Charles looked out the window his saw his Uncle Beverly's van coming down the driveway.

A lump formed in his throat.

Uncle Beverly was okay, but Aunt Violent was just as nutty as his mother. As for his cousins, well, he had an opinion for each of them.

Barbara, the eldest at age eighteen, acted a lot like Violent – headstrong, a little jaded, and sometimes said some pretty hurtful things. She wore a little makeup, but not to the extent where it looked plastered on her face. He didn't mind her, but she was among the family members he tried to avoid.

Karen was the youngest – his age – and was pretty bubbly, and last he checked had already had a few boyfriends. Now she wore a lot of makeup, more so than anyone else in their family. She was a little annoying, but otherwise she was okay.

Then there was Ivy, the middle child and sixteen-years-old, and unlike her sisters, she was on the quiet side, more reserved. She didn't wear makeup like her sisters and he remembered Mattie Fae calling her Plain-Jane once. Personally, Charles thought she was prettier than her sisters because she didn't wear makeup. Among them all, he liked being around her.

Thinking about Ivy made him smile a little.

At least he'd have someone to talk to during the reunion. She _always _came to talk to him first before she said anything more than hello to his parents or whoever else was there. Even if it was only to say hi and ask how he was doing, he was the first one she actually talked to. It was nice to be put first sometimes.

Still looking out the window, he watched with a mix of excitement and dread as the van parked and everyone got out. It looked like Violent was arguing with Beverly again, Karen looked annoyed, Barbara was talking along with her parents, and Ivy looked at least a little happy with her wavy brown hair up in a ponytail.

As they neared the house, Charles got up from his bed to go and greet them with his parents, but hesitated, looking at his room. It wasn't a terrible mess, but a few dirty shirts were lying on the floor with some pants, socks were on the bed frame, and random papers he'd doodled on were all over the desk with pens and pencils both on it and the floor.

What if Mattie Fae came in to get him and saw that his room was still a mess after she told him to clean it up? She'd throw a fit knowing that it was so bad when they had company! There was no doubt in his mind that she'd make a scene in front of everyone, and that made his cheeks flame with anxiety.

Moving as fast as he could, Charles grabbed up all his clothes and tried to stuff them into a dresser drawer only to find that not all of them would fit unless he folded them tightly. The front door opened, followed by the sound of his mother eagerly greeting her sister and her family, and he knew he didn't have time to fold any of them so he just stuffed as much as he could into each drawer, hoping that Mattie Fae would keep everyone's attention for a while. Charlie might come and get him though, and while he wouldn't be mad to see that Charles hadn't finished cleaning his room he knew that Mattie Fae wouldn't be far behind.

Just as he made to grab the socks off his bed frame that he'd forgotten, there was a knock on his door.

"Uh… yeah?" he called nervously.

His mom never knocked, she just barged in, but Charlie sometimes knocked.

"It's Ivy. Can I come in?"

Suddenly he wished it was his mother. At least he wouldn't be embarrassed by the mess if she saw it.

"Um, uh, just a second!" he replied, scrambling and tripping over his shoe, managing to catch himself on the bed frame.

From the other side of the door, Ivy heard the noise and asked, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just, uh… just gimme a second!" he pleaded, his anxiety growing.

He crammed his socks into a drawer, looked around his room, noticed his bed was still unmade, the papers still littered his desk, pens and pencils were all over the place…

"Can I come in yet?" Ivy asked.

No, he wanted to say so he could finish, but now that they were all here it wouldn't be long before dinner. At that point, they wouldn't have much time to just hang out.

Charles groaned. "Yeah."

Ivy opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. "Whatcha doing?"

He kicked his shoes under his bed, keeping his eyes on the ground from sheer embarrassment. "Was supposed to be done before you guys got here, but there was something on TV, and uh, then I thought I'd draw a few things first 'cause I was bored. That, uh... didn't have anything to draw so I just sat down for a minute but... but then you pulled up and I thought I could make it look good before Mom saw it," he explained in a rush.

"Mom 'bout chewed my head off before we left because I hadn't made my bed yet and had books everywhere," she said, grabbing a sock she found out of the corner of her eye and throwing it at him playfully. "Not the only one waitin' 'til the last minute."

His anxiety lessening a lit, he put the sock in his drawer.

"Want some help?" she asked. "It'd get done faster."

"You don't have'ta."

"I wanna help," she insisted, already pulling the sheets up on the bed.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Charles nodded and helped her make the bed, she being more neat and tidy with it than he would have been.

"Whatcha been doing lately?" Ivy asked, picking up the random pens and pencils on the floor.

Charles shrugged and straightened his guitar that was in the corner of his room. "Thought I'd learn to play guitar. Wanna play piano, but we don't have one so I been using Dad's old guitar. Better than nothin' I guess. Dad's been teachin' me."

Ivy's eyes lit up. She loved music. "How's it going?"

"Okay. Don't get to practice a lot, though," he replied solemnly. "Mom said…"

"She said what?"

"Said I play 'bout as good as a blind gopher who's had too much to drink."

Ivy pursed her lips, glaring at the door as if Mattie Fae were right there. "Yeah, 'cause she can play anything without sounding like she's draggin' nails down a chalkboard," she mumbled angrily. "I bet you can play ten times better than she can."

"Don't know about that. Like I said – haven't practiced much."

Expression thoughtful, she wandered over to the guitar, picked it up, and held it out to him. "Why don't you play somethin' for me?"

Charles turned bright red against his will, the anxiety returning. "I, uh… I don't know any songs, ya know? Nothin' good anyways."

"Doesn't matter to me. Play what you're best at."

"Uh… okay. Okay," he mumbled, nodding slowly as he took the guitar from her. He scratched his head, looked around, then pulled out his desk chair and sat down while Ivy perched herself on his bed with her legs tucked under her.

Searching his brain for a song he could play well enough, he started playing, deciding that he wouldn't sing along if only to avoid humiliating himself given how his voice had started cracking lately.

But as he played, he failed to see Ivy smile in recognition until she started singing along.

"_There was an old lady who swallowed a spider, that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her…"_

Charles hesitated before a grinned appeared on his face, his confidence building the more she sang along.

"_She swallowed the spider to catch the fly._

_I don't know why she swallowed a fly._

_Perhaps she'll die._

_There was an old lady who swallowed a cat._

_Imagine that, to swallow a cat._

_She swallowed the cat to catch the spider, that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her._

_She swallowed the spider to catch the fly._

_I don't know why she swallowed a fly._

_Perhaps she'll die."_

The song ended and Charles laid the guitar down across his lap, grinning along with Ivy, any trace of his earlier anxiety gone.

"Not really a happy song, but…" he trailed off, shrugging.

"It's great!" she assured him. In a whisper, she added, "If only your mama would swallow a fly."

Charles laughed, a terrible thing to do at a comment like that, but he wasn't able to help it. Picking at a scratch in the wood of the guitar, he asked, "So, it was good? You liked it?"

"It was really good. Really. Aunt Mattie Fae's talking crazy things if she thinks you sound like a blind gopher."

"A blind _drunk_ gopher," he corrected, making Ivy roll her hazel eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, to ask if she wanted to hear him play something else, but it seemed that at least one person in the house didn't much care for his playing.

Mattie Fae swung open the bedroom door, startling them both, and she glared at Charles. "Thought I told you to knock off that nonsense? Mary Mother of God, you tryin' to make all our ears bleed?"

Anxiety returning, making his heart race, he stammered, "I-I was just playin' something for Ivy."

"Why you torturing her with that noise for, you knucklehead?" she demanded. "She don't want to hear it!"

Ivy intervened and insisted, "I asked him to play. He told me he was learning and I wanted to hear."

"Well, ain't you a little saint, sweetie," Mattie Fae commented dryly. To Charles, she snapped coldly, "See what you gone done, Little Charles? You guilted your poor cousin into askin' to hear you play like a drunk monkey who's all thumbs!"

"I think he's really good," Ivy stated sincerely, looking from Charles to his mother. "Even if he did mess up here and there, he's learnin'. You're supposed to make mistakes."

"Yeah, sure, you can make mistakes. But when you're born one that excuse gets old real quick."

That hurt, and Charles' hands tightened on his guitar, sparing the quickest glance at Ivy.

She looked as hurt by the icy comment as he felt.

But Mattie Fae wasn't done.

The woman took in the sight of his room and threw her hands up in dismay. "And what'd I tell you about cleaning this pigsty?"

Charles looked around.

The bed was made, the clothes were put away – he hoped she wouldn't open the dresser drawers – the papers on his desk had been straightened, and there weren't any pens or pencils on the floor. It was a little disheveled, but it was clean.

Just not clean enough for Mattie Fae.

"Jesus, boy, I tell you to do _one _thing and you're too damn stupid and lazy to do that!" she snapped angrily.

Ivy stood up from the bed then, angry and near tears, and snapped, "Why are you so mean to him?"

"I ain't mean, I'm honest."

"You're mean," Ivy argued. "The room is fine and he plays guitar just fine. Just leave him alone, okay?"

Mattie Fae put her finger in Ivy's face, her own red with anger. "Now, you listen here, missy. You don't dare speak to me like that again, you hear? I don't give a shit how sorry you feel for him – dumb is dumb. Lord, why your mother don't just set you straight now baffles the hell outta me."

Ivy frowned.

"Oh, don't gimme that look, Ivy, you know what I'm talking about," Mattie Fae said, looking her up and down. "Comin' to a reunion like you rolled outta bed… your sisters have nice dresses on but you're in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers! And no makeup? God help you, you look more like a boy than Little Charles!"

Charles jumped up, his guitar falling on the floor. "Don't talk to her like that!"

Silence fell over the room, the tension so thick, and no one – not even Charles – could believe he just spoke up to his own mother.

Seeing red, Mattie Fae hissed, "What'd you say to me?"

All confidence gone, Charles swallowed. "I… I, uh… I didn't…"

Ivy grabbed his hand then and hurried them both out of the room, ignoring how Mattie Fae was yelling at them and even ignoring Charlie when he asked what was going on. She just walked them both outside, and Charles was relieved when they weren't followed.

Ivy was upset, almost crying, and Charles was utterly humiliated.

"…I wasn't all that hungry anyways," Ivy said glumly, dragging the back of her hands over her eyes. "You?"

He knew what she was really asking.

She didn't want to go back inside, but if he did, she would go with him.

"Nah, me neither," Charles replied, kicking a rock.

She nodded mutely, then gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, Charles?"

Eyes still on the ground, he asked, "Yeah?"

"Thanks… back there. It was really brave, you sayin' that."

Brave?

That wasn't a word used to describe him before.

"Yeah, well… you don't look like a boy," he muttered. "… You're pretty."

She smiled, touched, and he got the sense she wasn't told that very often.

Charles sighed, and then confessed, "That was Mom in a good mood."

Her hand tightened around his.

"I've got your back, Charles," Ivy reassured him. "Don't ever forget that."

Charles smiled, holding her hand just as tight, wanting to tell her that he had her back too but unsure how to say it.

* * *

Charles never forgot, not even now at thirty-seven.

So much had changed since that day, more than he could have ever imagined as he lay in bed with Ivy, her back against his chest and his arm securely around her.

Neither had intended for this to happened, but neither put up much fight. In the end, the only ones who would understand them, who could love them so completely were each other.

Glancing at the clock, he sighed.

It was after one in the afternoon, and he'd have to leave soon before Mattie Fae pitched a fit about him being gone or would have to find some excuse to calm the woman down – Ivy had swung by at seven in the morning to pick him up with the excuse to Charlie that she wanted to take him out to breakfast before attending a matinee at the theater. During breakfast, though, Ivy started feeling ill so they went back to her apartment and never got out of bed.

That was the hard part – sneaking around.

What they were doing was unconventional and downright wrong in the minds of some seeing as they were first cousins, but they weren't hurting anyone and they were both consensual adults capable of making their own choices. Besides, they hadn't even done anything since it was too soon after her hysterectomy for her to have sex.

As long as he was with her, though, he was happy.

Shifting in her sleep, Ivy groaned in discomfort, and Charles sat up a bit. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, just sore."

Reaching over her, he grabbed her pain medication from the nightstand and emptied a pill from the bottle onto his hand before returning it to the nightstand and retrieving her bottle of water. Urging her to sit up, he said, "Take it."

She hesitated to do so. "I took one before I came to get you."

"The doctor said it was okay to take it every five hours," he reminded her gently. When she still hesitated, wincing from the pain, he reassured her softly, "You're not your mom, Ivy."

Ivy bit her lip, the words hitting home and getting to her.

Violet was addicted to her pills, and Ivy feared that if she weren't careful the same would happen to her. Charles wouldn't let that happen and kept careful watch on how many she took and when, even though he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Finally relenting, Ivy took the pill and swallowed it, chasing it down with the water.

Charles smiled fondly at her, tucking her hair behind her ear before leaning over to kiss her forehead tenderly, holding her close. "I've got your back, Ivy. No matter what. Never forget that."

The words he used did not go unnoticed by Ivy and she smiled at the memory, snuggling deeper into his arms.

Some words were hard for him to say, always getting nervous around people, but with Ivy he could be brave, could be confident in whatever he wanted to say to her. With Ivy, he wasn't a loser, and he was finally able to say to her what he'd wanted to say when they were kids.

Whatever doubts they had vanished in moments like these, reassuring the couple that everything would be okay, and that nothing could tear them apart.

* * *

_**Review, please!**_


End file.
